Illusions
by Mlle. Verity
Summary: Grantaire fantasizes. Nothing changes.


How can you propose to have freedom without anarchy? How can you  
curtail a people freedom to keep them free? I don't know. When the  
revolution took place, it dragged a tyrannical king down from his  
pedestal. But when it progressed too far, it took the lives of all  
who attempted to check it.  
  
I would like to have a society where all men are equal. It's impossible  
though; with government will come tyranny, then anarchy – in anarchy  
there will be no reason until finally some dictator rises up and takes  
over the country starting his own dynasty. We are stuck in a circle,  
and think; in a circle you always come to the same point. Nothing  
changes.  
  
So please, consider what you are attempting to do in overthrowing the  
government; whether you will be freeing the people in liberating them,  
or only starting another loop in a vicious cycle. Overthrow the  
government by all means – if you can – but make plans for the  
leadership of the people you care for so much. I have to wish to see  
you go the way of M. Robspierre through undue faith in the nature of  
humanity.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Grantaire  
  
There, it's done. Now all I must do is wait for the ink to dry, then fold it and carry it with me to the Musain where I'll leave it in his place. It sounds so simple, but it's not. How do you tell a godlet who looks at your with Hades own glare that his ideas are wrong? That he is too idealistic? No, I think I may be sure of a cool welcome from young Romeo when I criticize his planned union with Jul – his Patria.  
  
There he is, sitting in his usual corner. It's going to be even harder to hand him the letter than to leave it in his place  
  
"Enjolras?" When did my voice get to be so cracked? It's not normally this weak.  
  
"Grantaire," there it is, a statement of fact. Why can't I ever be so calm?  
  
I hold out the letter. He stares at it a moment, then reaches out to take it. He reads the letter carefully – as he does everything – not looking up until he is finished. It seems to take him forever – He who normally works so quickly.  
  
At last he's done; he pushes back his chair. Hades, now I'm going to be lectured on the "glories" of Patria. Save your breath, Pretty Boy. I've heard your speeches before. They're nothing above average either. Anyone with your education could do as much – better even. I've heard Royalist speak better before who couldn't draw followers because of their own lack of passion for their subject. That's all that distinguishes you from the crowd. You believe. They need someone to believe in and they cannot find anything in this superficial world that fully meets their need.  
  
He opens his mouth. At last, I was tired of waiting for my lecture. What comes out is a surprise though.  
  
"Grantaire, I know this already...I-I-I" He breaks off, resting his head in his hands. It moves me in spite of my nature. I wasn't expecting the idol to fall off his pedestal like this. He was always so untouchable before, so un-human and supreme. Oddly enough, the sight of his helplessness makes me angry. I want to hurt him now.  
  
"What are you thinking then? That you would lead them to their deaths and there would rest the end? You know it couldn't happen that way. You would die as well. With all of us." That was even harsher than I meant to be. He looks despondent and suddenly I find myself wishing to take him in my arms like a child. A lost helpless child who wandered away from home the first time and got himself into trouble.  
  
"I know. But I have built an existence on this. Do you understand what it means to be trusted and lead people to their deaths? ... I do but there is nothing else for me to do. They need this Grantaire. The people need help. If it were only my own death that might help them, I would die willingly. If only it was my own death..." He breaks off sadly, looking down at his hands where they rest, palms upward, on the table.  
  
Sighing bravely, he continues. "It would be easy then, for I would not be responsible for their deaths. The government would not notice my death alone though. It will require more than one man to change what is now." Bitterly he adds, "Do you hate me now? It is despicable what I am doing."  
  
"No, I-I do not hate you. I understand but would it not be better to try peaceful means? You who are so rich, you could do so much good with your influence when you are older."  
  
"I must do it!" This is said desperately.  
  
"No, you must not!" I cannot help it; triumph will come through my voice.  
  
He's looking at me again now but in a way he hasn't all this evening, all the coldness of old has returned and his eyebrows are delicately arched in disdainful query.  
  
"I'm sorry, what did you say?"  
  
"Nothing." I blink. What am I doing in my chair? I was standing. He was the one sitting. I hunch back over my absinth and he goes back to his speech, I'm not even trying to listen now. Of course, something so wonderful could only have happened in one of my illusions.... only an illusion. Nothing will change and nothing can...  
  
A/N: Happy Barricade Day everyone! Oh yes, the last line was a lame takeoff from Turning. 


End file.
